He hadn’t planned to visit this church on the outskirts of Saltern, but it felt like the right thing to do. He went inside and found that in contrast to the almost forbidding facade, the interior was actually rather beautiful. His entrance happened to coincide with the end of a meeting about the flower displays and an exhibition of amateur art at a charity fundraising event.

He looked around. So this was the church that had dismissed Nan Cutler for upsetting a member of the council. Learning what had actually happened to cause this rift might help them understand who Nan Cutler really was, other than a “sweet old lady.” And where better to start than with the vicar?

Josephine turned out to be a friendly, chatty woman, passionate about her church and everything to do with it. He was surprised that she recognised him, and even more so when she recalled his name. Perhaps being the bishop’s son had its advantages after all.

After a few minutes’ idle conversation, he asked Josephine if she had heard about the death of Nan Cutler.

Josephine nodded sadly. ‘I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that she had died — at over ninety it could have been expected. But murdered?’ She shook her head. ‘Now that came as a shock.’

‘I’m trying to build up a picture of her past and wondered if you or anyone here could help?’ He looked at her hopefully.

‘I didn’t have much of a chance to get to know her, Kevin. I arrived not long before she left. But the others told me that although she was quite devout and helpful, she did have very set notions of how things should be done, and she wasn’t afraid to voice her opinions. Not often, but if she did find something that offended or upset her, she wouldn’t let it go.’ The vicar looked around, then said softly, ‘The best person to talk to would be one of my churchwardens, Amy Shipley. She was on the parish council at the time.’ She turned and beckoned to a woman talking to a group of others nearby. She made the introductions and left them to talk. As she hurried around organising her army of helpers, Josephine put Kevin in mind of an enthusiastic sheepdog, complete with collar, herding her flock.

Amy Shipley was in her late seventies or early eighties with sharp eyes and a straight back. He explained who he was and asked if she could tell him anything she remembered about Nan Cutler.